Beyond the Wall
by souwant2bcliche
Summary: He's gone...but Jon won't accept it and the Old Bear refuses to do what it takes to get him back. It's up to Jon Snow to venture forth and rescue Benjen Stark, as Jon believes Ben is the Watch's only hope for survival. What new foes await beyond the wall when Jon and Ghost come face to face with Jon's nightmares...


"Beyond the Wall"

_A Song of Ice and Fire_ fanfiction

Chapter 1

It was late, but Jon could not find sleep. He paced up and down the Wall, Ghost padding along beside him. Under his feet, the Wall wept, remorseful for the lost rangers. He could hardly think, his hatred for the Watch consuming him. Despite the rumors that he'd been assigned the Old Bear's steward at Mormont's own request, Jon could not escape the overwhelming anger he felt for Ser Alliser. "I'll be damned if that man denies us the chance to find Uncle Benjen," Jon whispered to Ghost, scratching the direwolf behind the ears, his hand still raw and throbbing under the silk bandages.

The gravel along the top of the Wall was ground deep into the ice, but Jon's steps had become increasingly confident as his months with the Night's Watch dragged on. He was alone here. With too few brothers to patrol the Wall, it was a rare occurrence to encounter someone else this far from Castle Black.

Jon often climbed the wall on nights like these when the cold returned. Although he could no longer feel the bite of the wind on his cheeks, the bitterness regularly nipped at his heart and it took all of his strength to fight it off. He missed Rickon's laughter and the crack of wooden swords in the courtyard as he and Robb took innocent jabs at one another. He worried about Bran. The raven brought good news of the boy's survival, but Jon knew the struggles Bran would have to face as a cripple, for being a bastard was a similar disability in the eyes of most. Most of all, Jon missed Arya, tousling her hair and calling her 'little sister' as she laughed. Laughter was rare amongst the brothers of the Night's Watch, he lamented, and its absence could have frozen the heart of even the most jovial fool, given enough time.  
Keeping Ghost close helped still the pain, even when his presence elicited more memories. The direwolf seemed to carry Jon's burdens of his own, and could sense his anxiety, pacing faithfully for hours, listening to Jon curse Thorne and the Others alike, while simultaneously plotting all manner of ways to escape his stewardship and join the rangers.

Jon was the best fighter of all the new recruits and the shock on his new brothers' faces when he was confirmed steward only confirmed it. He was ashamed, and what little pride owed any man, bastard or not, was crushed under the weight of his assignment. He felt no honor being proclaimed equal to the likes of Samwell Tarly and the other grotesques and cravens assigned as stewards. The meager assurances offered by his friends held little meaning now.

First like began to creep over the horizon and Jon's sense of isolation from the warmth of Winterfell rose as quickly as the sun. His only tie to his family and his past life had gone missing months ago, either dead or captured beyond the Wall. "Do I have a choice?" he asked, nearly expecting Ghost to answer, but the direwolf only stared back, his red eyes glowing in the misty twilight. Jon knelt, taking Ghost's head in his hands. "We have to find him, Ghost. The Watch is crumbling quicker than these castles. Gods!" he cursed, "we've barely enough men to protect ourselves let alone the entirety of the Seven Kingdoms." With that, Jon rose and strode towards the steep, icy stairs, Ghost trailing faithfully at his heels.

Jon walked pointedly towards Lord Mormont's new quarters and his duties, leaving Ghost behind as usual, whispering to him, "winter is coming, Ghost, and the Watch won't survive without Uncle Benjen's strength and leadership." The old man detested the direwolf's presence and the majority of the Watch felt threatened by him, so he remained chained while Jon went about his day. _So much for bravery_, he thought.

The men he now called brothers were cravens, sent to the Wall to spare their lives with little or no true interest in protecting the realm from what lay beyond the Wall. The noble dreams from Nan's stories were shattered in his first month with the Night's Watch. The band of brothers was nothing but a smattering of misfits, rapers, cravens, bastards, criminals, cripples, and all other matter of outcasts from the Seven Kingdoms. But the likes of his companions had little effect on the solemnity of his vows, and he felt obligated to love these men in spite of himself. Jon might not have the Stark name, but he had Stark blood.

The Old Bear was awake when Jon arrived in his solar. "Where have you been, Snow? It's damn cold and the fire's nearly out. I can't have a steward who leaves me to freeze to death." The old man was clad in a tattered tunic seated by a dying hearth. Jon hurried to tend the fire, meanwhile taking note of the Lord Commander's curt temper. The fire smoldered, choking on the ice in the air. Jon shot a glare upwards as the raven cawed _Snow! Snow!_ from the rafters, mocking him.

"Patrolling the Wall," Jon lied while he saw to the fire and gathered a blanket, noticing a stack of maps on the table. "My lord, rumor has it that the wildlings are amassing beyond the Wall. I noticed the glow of fires on the horizon."

"You must remember what folly lies in rumors, Lord Snow. Although it might be wise to keep an eye and an ear out. One can never be too vigilant these days, especially having lost so many of our best rangers within the past six months. What do you think we should do, boy? No doubt go on some great ranging, searching for Benjen. Is that what you want, Snow? To risk the lives of the entire Night's Watch to find your uncle? Or shall I count him as lost along with the other rangers in his party and those before and after him and proceed with choosing a new head ranger? Speak up, Snow, I haven't got all day." The Lord Commander rarely sought council from underlings, and Jon suspected he was being made an example of. The Old Bear looked tired, the stress of too few men to serve the Wall and too many men missing showed in his eyes, which drooped sullenly.

Jon looked over his shoulder contemplatively, not afraid to answer honestly, but tactfully. "I'd send all able rangers to find Benjen and what remains of his party. They were valuable men, a loss the Watch can't afford. All we've received are rapers and cowards." He studied Mormont's face, unable to determine the thoughts behind the Lord Commander's aging grey eyes. "What are the rangers without Ben Stark? A misguided band of sellswords, at best, my Lord. No one else is…" Mormont cut him off.

"I should have known. You're still green, Snow. Too much summer with far too little winter in your blood. After this long summer, we're due a treacherous winter, and killing off the last of the Watch by sending them far beyond the Wall is reckless and brash. Let him go, Snow. I've made arrangements for a new head ranger to take his place."

The lord commander seemed unmoved by the attempt on his life by Othor a few nights prior, despite his new quarters and the queer stubble beginning to return to his chin, which he scratched at fervently. "That beast tried to kill me, Snow. Be doubtless I am thankful for your service and that of your wolf; however, I fear this is not but a plan by the Others to draw us away from the Wall. Some desires burn like fires within us, Jon, and the Others' desire for death burns stronger than the sun."

Jon thought better of questioning him and continued to coax the fire. _I can't do this alone_, he thought. _There has to be a way_. "My Lord, the Watch must not sit idle whilst the Wall is overrun." With that, Jon turned to find Hobb to secure the commander's breakfast.


End file.
